


Beautiful.

by RedStarFiction



Series: If... [1]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Go Away Terry, M/M, One Shot, all the feelings, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:44:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13078107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction
Summary: What if Terry had not been in the house that first time?





	Beautiful.

Mickey lay beside the other boy, a small smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. He slid his eyes to the right and tried to see what Gallagher was doing. Cautious blue eyes met eager green ones and Mickey almost flinched.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?”

“You.”

Mickey wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze. He didn’t know why Gallagher talked like that. Honest and earnest and like nothing in the world scared him. Mickey tried to make it piss him off but it didn’t. Not even a little bit.

“Well… fuckin’ stop it.”

He tugged at a loose thread on his bedding and noticed a slick shimmer of lube on his fingers. Frowning, he wiped them down the grimy quilt and then startled as Gallagher’s hand slid over his.

“I really enjoyed that, Mickey.”

The redhead had a sweet voice, Mickey decided. He sounded like he was from somewhere else, another world, where shit wasn’t always fucked up and mean. Like, maybe he could show Mickey a little glimpse of that world if they just held hands a little longer or if maybe …

Ian squeezed Mickey’s fingertips and it was like throwing a bucket of ice over the older boy. He shot upright, snatching back his hand and glaring at Ian, bare chest rising and falling in deep heaving breaths. Ian gave him a small, lopsided smile and shrugged, swinging his legs out of bed. No one was home, they would have heard the door if anyone had come back. He stepped lightly over their discarded clothes and bent over to retrieve his cigarettes from his pants pocket.

Ian could feel Mickey’s eyes on him. Before they had seemed to scorch his skin as they raked over his body, hungry and almost desperate for what Ian was offering. Now they felt cooler, gentler. Ian had never felt like this when someone was looking at his body before. With Kash it was always greedy and Ian kind of enjoyed having that effect on the man, but with Mickey … with Mickey it felt like Ian was actually being seen for who he was, not just what he was.

He straightened and turned to face Mickey, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

“You want one?”

Ian asked, pointing to his lips. Mickey’s tongue swept the full swell of his lower lip as he nodded mutely, his eyes flicking between Ian’s mouth and his eyes, then dropping lower.

“Put some damn clothes on, man.”

“Really? You don’t want to go again.”

Ian gave him another knowing smile and Mickey returned it shyly, trying to thumb it away and failing miserably.

“Nah. Someone might come back …”

“Can I take a shower at least?”

“There’s fuck all hot water.”

“So?”

“Whatever, man. Knock yourself out.”

Ian took the cigarette from his lips and leant over the bed, placing it gently between Mickey’s lips.

“Join me if you want.”

He smiled and grabbed his underpants, jeans, and shirt, heading into the bathroom. The filter of the cigarette was ever so slightly damp from Ian’s lips. It was the closest to a kiss Mickey had ever had and he carefully placed his own lips over the patch for a moment before removing the cigarette and tucking it under his pillow.

The sounds of running water changed from the monotonous pounding of water hitting plastic, to the more varied splashing of it cascading down a body. Ian’s body. Mickey swallowed and began slowly edging his way to the foot of the bed, keeping the quilt firmly tucked around his waist. Finally, he summoned up the courage to peer around the bathroom door and his heart felt like it would burst right out of his chest. Ian had his face turned up to the heavy spray of barely-warm water, his hair slicked back against the pale skin of his neck. The word ‘beautiful’ came unbidden into Mickey’s mind and he yanked himself away from the bathroom, tripping on the quilt and sprawling backwards onto the bed, like some stupid fucking beetle on its shell.

Fuck this.

Mickey rolled onto the floor and started grabbing for his clothes. This needed to stop right fucking now. He’d give Gallagher the Towelhead’s gun and tell him to get the Hell out before his Dad or brothers came home and shit went down. Fucking ‘beautiful’? Jesus Christ! Like Mickey was some old queen or worse, some little bitch! His lip curled up in self-disgust as he angrily jerked his shirt over his head.

“You not showering?”

Mickey whirled to face Ian and the look on his face made the redhead step back, a small surprised frown between his brows.

“Does it fuckin’ look like I am?”

“No. Sorry.”

“What you fuckin’ apologising for?”

They stare at each other for a couple of breaths. Mickey hates that the happy playfulness is gone from Ian’s tone and replaced with wariness. Just like everyone else, he looks a little scared and a little repulsed by Mickey and it knots the older boys gut viciously. Well it’s not exactly a fucking surprise is it? Mickey thinks, hurt and regret knotting in his gut. While Ian dresses, Mickey rummages through his weapons draw and finds the gun, tossing it lightly onto the bed.

“Thanks”

Ian turns, buckling his belt and there is a hopeful little spark in his eye and his voice has a little of that far away sweetness about it again. Mickey is about to smile back when he realises that Gallagher’s eyelids are fluttering closed and his lips are beginning to form a pout. Mickey cannot kiss Ian Gallagher. Not now. Not in his father’s house, after the shameful display he has made of himself, after watching the other boy in the shower and thinking that stupid word!

“Kiss me and I’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out.”

Mickey snaps, turning sharply away and pressing his thumb hard against his lower lip, crushing all the little nerves that had jumped treacherously at the thought of Gallagher’s warm mouth. 

Mickey waits in the living room; he smokes half a cigarette and his bare toes bunch and release the threadbare rug, an anxious fidgeting that he can’t seem to stop. After what seems like an age, Ian finally comes out of the bedroom.

“Okay, well I’ll see you around, Mickey.”

“Yeah.”

Mickey nods, his head slightly bowed and eyes darting every way except toward Ian. The younger boy brushes past him and for a moment Mickey thinks he is going to lose all control and end up begging the fucker to stay but a second passes and Ian’s scent lingers but doesn’t overwhelm him. Mickey follows Ian to the door and reaches around him to open it, and as he does so, soft lips alight fleetingly on his cheekbone.

Before Mickey can do more than grunt and widen his eyes, Ian is past him and down the steps. Mickey braces himself against the doorframe and raises his fingertips hesitantly to his cheek.

“Fuckin’ Gallagher.”


End file.
